a very bad patient
by abbyli
Summary: Santana takes care of Sebastian while he's sick. And he's a bad patient...a very bad patient...


**title: **a very bad patient

**summary: **Santana takes care of Sebastian while he's sick. And Sebastian's a bad patient...a very bad patient. Fluff!

**pairing: **santana/sebastian, friendship, mentions of sebastian/karofsky

**rating: **T

**disclaimer: **i own grant gustin. okay, only in my dreams.

**notes: **I still think that we could have had a great Sebtana friendship, not really a pairing. They have such fantastic chemistry and I just hope Grant and Naya share some more scenes together later in the season.

Little surprise at the end of the oneshot. Hope you enjoy that. =)

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"Sebastian! Sebastian, get your twinky ass out here!"

Her shopping bags slam to the floor as she shuts the door to her shared apartment behind her. It had been nearly two years since she had made the mistake of moving in with her favorite bitch after being kicked out of Rachel and Puck's apartment. Kurt had been kicked out not long after she did, moving back in with Blaine. She had found a nice but tiny shack in Queens and the rent was barely what she could handle.

And then she gets a phone call from Berry, telling her that she had found a roommate that can split the rent with her. She's all for it until his little meerkat face shows up at her door.

But alas, the rent was due Friday and she only had three quarters of it. To put it bluntly, she was royally screwed unless she invited him in.

So she did.

And he had been living with her ever since.

They weren't really big rivals anymore. Okay, they weren't rivals at all. Big deal, they were actually, dare she say it, _friends. _Yeah, they still fought like cats and dogs, sometimes getting into screaming fights that would end with something broken and then someone being tossed out of the house. Most of the time, he was leaving the apartment with her high heel planted firmly in his ass.

Maybe...oh, god, _cough_-_gag_-, he was her _best _friend. Hence him moving in with her, they shared more (oh, gross), talked about feelings (vomit), and spoke about their respective relationships. She was there when his significant other dumped him and he witnessed her ripping that significant other a new one when he was spotted at a bar they were hanging out at to drown their sorrows.

God help anyone who hurt him.

He was there for her when she and Brittany called it quits for good and held her while she cried after receiving an invitation to the wedding of Brittany Pierce and Artie Abrams. He took her out drinking after that and they somehow wound up at Callbacks, doing a rendition of 'Smooth Criminal'.

God help them all.

His face was the first one that she saw after her curtain call at West Side Story. He dumped three dozen multicolored roses in her arms and stuck a feathery tiara on top of her head before running away laughing. She got him back for that later. Let's just say, it involved him passed out on the sofa and a magic marker and a big curly mustache.

She cheered him on during opening night of _Rent _where he portrayed best buddy Mark who had been dumped by his girlfriend for another girl.

Huh. Kind of ironic there, maybe?

She was also the first one that noticed the goo-goo hearts in his eyes when he was in love.

Boy, she almost fainted when she saw him with a certain David Karofsky one night at Callbacks. Damn, she never would have thought something like that ever would have happened. But hell yes, it was and it did.

She hated to admit it out loud but deep down, she was full of pride to call that little twink her best friend. Because he was. He was the best friend she had ever had in her whole life.

So here she was, at twenty six years old, still living in that same apartment with the same guy, just bubbling over with news and she can't seem to find him.

"Seb! Seb, where are you?!"

A loud round of hacking finally answers her.

Crap.

She scoots down the hallway and knocks lightly on his bedroom door. "Seb, you all right?"

Another series of intense coughing greets her ears and she winces. Damn it.

"Just peachy, San," he groans in response.

She peeks around the door and sees him spread across his bed, snot leaking out of his reddened nose, a bunch of crumpled up tissues all over the bedspread.

"Shit," she moans, walking over and gently resting her hand against his forehead. She would bathe in Purell later. "Damn it, Seb. You're hot."

"I'm very aware of that, Santana. Now what's my temperature?"

She rolls her eyes. "Smartass, you're burning up with fever. How long-?"

"How long have I had a fever? All morning. That's why you saw hide nor hair of me when you left," he moans, snorting up into another tissue.

She steps back, moaning softly as he continues to cough. When he finally catches his breath, she pushes against his chest.

"Damn it, just get under the covers," she snaps, grabbing the blankets and pushing them up around his chest. "Stay there, don't move, or I will break your legs."

He chuckles weakly, running a shaky hand through his matted hair. "Aww, Auntie Snixx. Are you going to take care of me?"

She shrugs a delicate shoulder. "I guess I have no choice, do I?"

"Admit it, Santana."

She turns just as she places a hand on the door handle. She makes a mental note to sterilize everything later.

"What's that?"

"Admit you love me and you can't stand to see your favorite twink in agony," he replies with a soft smirk.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "I will admit no such thing, dirtbag. Now stay in bed." With that, she stomps out of the bedroom and loudly slams the door behind her, drowning out the sounds of his laughter.

**-;**

She winces every time he coughs. It sounds like he is about have a lung fly out and shoot across the room. He had always had a hard time with fevers and colds because half the time, they turned into bronchitis or on one chilly November evening, pneumonia. She would never forget that one horrid night when she had to call 911 when he couldn't stop coughing. It was that night when she realized how much the little jerk meant to her, facing the thought of actually losing him.

"Santana?!"

Oh, dear. Here comes the whining.

"Yes, Sebastian?!"

"Can I have some juice?!

"Yes, you may!"

And of course, once she got there with the chilled apple juice in hand, he wanted orange juice. When she returned with orange juice, he wanted crushed ice, not cubed. The third time through, she dumped the juice over his head.

"Hey! What was that for?!"

"Get your own juice!" she snapped before stalking out of the room.

"Oh, but-! But-!"

"You're not dying, Sebastian. You can get off your skinny butt and get it yourself!"

He silently counted down from five, hitting one just as she stomped back into his room and snatched the empty glass away and stalked back into the kitchen.

"I love you!"

"Buzz off!"

**-;**

The phone rang just as she poured hot water into a cup of Earl Grey tea. She continues to pour and snatches up her cell with the other hand, realizing at the last moment it was Sebastian's cell.

"Hello-, oh shit."

"Santana?"

"Oh, hey Dave. Sorry, grabbed Seb's cell by accident," she answers, gently setting the tea kettle back down on the stove.

"No problem," Dave says softly. She can hear exhaustion in his voice and lets out her grunt of exasperation.

"Jesus, is everyone tired?"

Dave's chuckle is warm, almost lifting her mood up. "I guess so, Santana. It's been a long couple of weeks." he smiles. "How is Sebastian? He all right?"

"He's got a rotten cold and is currently flat on his back. Of course, I had to punch him out to get him there. But he's all right."

"And you?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"San," his tone was firmer, almost like a big brother.

And then she remembers.

"Shit! Oh, shit, shit, shit!"

Dave's laughter is gentle. "Oh, you just remembered, didn't you?"

"I haven't told him yet! Shit!"

"Tell him when he wakes up. It will make him feel a hell of a lot better," Dave says with another smile in his voice. "And tell him how happy I am for the both of you."

"Oh, Mr. Karofsky, if you think you are going anywhere, you've got another thing coming," Santana growls playfully into the phone. "I'll have him call you back later, okay?""All right."

She closes the phone then, setting it down on the counter. She lifts up the two mugs of tea and carries them down the hallway and back to Sebastian's bedroom, snatching her own cell phone out of her purse as she goes.

He's just waking up when she gently opens up the door, setting the mugs down on the nightstand.

"Hey there, twink," she smiles. "How you feelin'?"

He gives her a soft smile, blearily gazing in her direction. "I dunno. Give me a minute." It's at that moment when she shoves the thermometer under his tongue. He shoots her a dirty look but doesn't try to spit out.

After a minute, she checks it, letting out her own soft sigh. "Finally back to normal. Thank God."

"Am I gonna live?"

"About another sixty or seventy years. I'm not sure," she answers with a smirk. "Do you feel like drinking any tea?"

She helps him shift up onto the pillows before handing him the mug. She crawls into bed beside him, her own mug resting in her hands.

"Dave called. I accidentally picked it up, thinking it was my phone. One of us needs to get a new phone, they look to much alike."

He chuckles, taking a draft from the tea. "You get a new one. I like mine too much." He ignores the glare she shoots in his direction. "What did Dave want?"

"He was checking up on you. And he wanted to tell you how happy he is for you. For the both of us." That is when she unearths her phone, putting it on video and turning up the audio.

The sonogram plays on the screen, the highly audible sounds of the baby's heartbeat like a breathtaking lullaby dancing through the room.

His eyes are wide, and dare she say it, filled with tears.

"It took? We're-"

She beams, handing him the phone. "We're pregnant."

When you know that Mr. Right, or in Santana's case, Mrs. Right may not be coming along any time soon but your life is good and you're ready, it's time for a little bit of action. Well, not the good kind, a different kind of action.

And she knew who she wanted to raise a baby with.

Mr. Sicky right next to her.

Sebastian lets out a watery laugh, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Oh, my god...Is it-is it okay?"

"_She _is about four months along and perfectly healthy. You see, that's what I wanted to tell you before I found you in this rotting condition."

"Sorry about that."

She shrugs, taking the phone back but not turning the screen off. "Hey, no worries. Soon enough, you'll be waiting on me hand and foot when I'm too big and fat to move."

He lets out a snort. "I don't doubt that for one minute."

**-;**

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**This is just so fluffy that I need to vomit rainbows. **

**Sebastian and Santana as friends, it kind of reminds me of Will and Grace. **

**Hope you liked the adorable twist at the end. Reviews are much appreciated, my darlings. **


End file.
